


Predestined

by BastardPrince



Series: trc: Gansey and Ronan [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Existential Angst, M/M, just a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 07:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17219702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardPrince/pseuds/BastardPrince
Summary: "Look, I don't lie, right? So trust me when I say this. You have some fucking annoying habits, but you arenotyour family."---Gansey doesn't want to follow in his parents' footsteps.





	Predestined

Gansey returns from his mother's campaign event late Sunday afternoon. He's only been gone for two nights, but it feels more like two months.

He's exhausted. Pasting on a fake smile and pretending to be interested in politics drains Gansey in such a way that he feels like he'll never have energy again.

The Pig shudders to a stop in the parking lot at Monmouth Manufacturing. Gansey leaves his hands on the steering wheel and leans down to rest his forehead between them. He sits and breathes for a few moments, composing himself. Feeling infinitesimally better, Gansey stretches to grab his overnight bag from the backseat, pulls it through the narrow gap between the two front seats, and pushes the driver's side door open to clamber out of the Camaro.

* * *

When Gansey gets inside, the first thing he sees is Ronan, lounging in the single armchair, chewing on the leather bands around his wrist.

This may not seem special, but coming from Ronan it's a meaningful gesture. Usually Ronan would be in his room with the door firmly shut, so finding him sitting out in the open, waiting for Gansey to return, is a sign of genuine affection.

Like a dog sitting by the door, waiting for its owner to come home.

Gansey tosses his bag towards the foot of his bed. The bedding looks significantly more rumpled than when he left.

_Had Ronan slept in his bed while he was away?_

The thought makes Gansey shiver pleasantly.

"Please tell me we have food here. I've been living off hors d'oeuvres for two days and I'm on the brink of starvation."

Ronan thinks for a second.

"There's some orange juice in the fridge. And there's, like, half a pack of Oreos."

Gansey groans.

"We could go to Nino's and get pizza."

Gansey groans again. "I just spent four hours driving home."

"I could drive," Ronan says nonchalantly.

Gansey narrows his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ronan is rarely helpful unless he has an ulterior motive.

"The Pig deserves to be driven by someone without the delicate sensibilities of an 89-year-old woman, anyway."

_Ah ha._

"Absolutely not," Gansey says staunchly. "If you're driving, we're taking the BMW."

Ronan grins. "Okay, Dick."

* * *

Gansey has no interest in staying at Nino's, where it's crowded and loud and full of Aglionby students who might come talk to him, so by the time he and Ronan have gotten the pizza and returned to Monmouth it's beginning to get dark.

"Can we sit out here and eat? It’s nice out."

Ronan shrugs indifferently and opens the driver's side door. He moves his seat back so he has a little more room in front of him.

Following suit, Gansey pushes the passenger's side door open and reclines his seat a bit. He grabs a slice of pizza and takes a huge bite.

Something about the hot, greasy cheese helps him feel more at home.

The boys eat without speaking. The only sound comes from the wind in the trees and the crickets outside.

Once they've finished, Gansey gets out of the car and stretches. He walks around to the back of the BMW and leans against the tail lights. In the rearview mirror, Ronan can see him tip his head back and look up at the sky.

After picking up a couple crumpled napkins and tossing them into the empty pizza box, Ronan pulls himself out of the car and goes to stand beside Gansey, close enough that their shoulders touch.

Without turning to look at Ronan, Gansey starts to speak. "What's the point of all this?"

Ronan watches the fireflies in the grass by the edge of the parking lot and waits for Gansey to elaborate.

"What's the point of me meeting you and living here and finding Glendower if, in the end, I'll just end up like my mother? A politician throwing expensive parties to impress people I don't care about."

"You're nothing like that horde of fucking idiots."

"But how do you know I won't become like them? I feel like I'm predestined. I can see how my story ends, and I don't like it. Why should I bother seeing it through?"

Ronan steps away from the bumper and turns to look at Gansey. "Don't even think about leaving me, Gansey," he says vehemently. "If you stop breathing, so will I. I'll make sure of it."

Gansey doesn't answer.

"Look, I don't lie, right? So trust me when I say this. You have some fucking annoying habits, but you are _not_ your parents."

Gansey takes a shuddering breath. "Whenever I go back, it feels like I disappear. Like I'm just the quirky son who runs around looking for improbable things. Like this is just a phase and eventually I’ll return to DC. I lose myself."

"So take me with you next time."

It slips past Ronan's lips before he realizes what he's said.

Gansey looks at him, shocked. Ronan hates politics and bureaucracy and wearing a tie. For him to offer such a thing is extraordinarily out of character.

But Ronan doesn't retract his offer. Why should he? He doesn't regret it.

"I won't let you lose yourself," Ronan explains.

Gansey is still looking at with wide eyes. Ronan can feel himself blushing.

"Haven't you realized it yet, Gansey?" Ronan asks. "Don't you know that I would do anything for you? Anything in the whole fucking world."

Ronan has run out of things to say, but Gansey hasn't stopped looking shocked -– in fact he looks more shocked now than he did before. It's a very un-Ganseylike expression. His aristocratic features are much more suited to absolute, unwavering confidence.

Ronan likes this uncertain side of Gansey. 

He returns to leaning against the back of the BMW. Gansey presses his shoulder against Ronan’s and sighs softly. By the time the boys go inside, the last of the evening light has been replaced by the caliginous Henrietta night.


End file.
